


"All I Want For Christmas..."

by notjustmom



Series: Sherlock Christmas Ficlets 2017 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:27:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: prompt 2: wish list/shopping





	"All I Want For Christmas..."

December, already. Sherlock wondered how it was possible, but he was beginning to notice the fairy lights, the buskers playing Christmas carols, the annual controversial coffee cups... he rolled his eyes as he strolled down Baker Street, and realized he had no idea what to get John for Christmas. 

He stopped in front of a toy store, Star Wars was all the rage again, as it was back when he had been a child, actually it was the second, no, the fifth part - he had always taken issue with Lucas and his numbering system, order, above everything - and he recalled sitting at his desk writing out his list for Father Christmas. Just a light saber, that was all, just one thing. He had thought if he had a light saber, he could make friends, or vanquish his foes. He had given it to his father to mail, as Mum had been absentminded even then, and would have left his letter in her piles on her desk, and on Christmas morning had dashed down the stairs to find plenty of books, a new hideous jumper, and a chemistry set. He had put on a brave face, smiled for his parents, stuck his tongue out at Mycroft and carried on, but spent the day hoping, pressing his nose against the window, watching the skies, just in case Father Christmas had one last present for him. But nothing happened. Perhaps that's when he stopped believing in things like sentiment, and wishes... he pressed his gloved hands and his frozen nose to the shop window and thought about what would be on his list now, if he wrote out a wish list. He gazed at all of the bright and shiny toys, the fancy dolls, the trains - even the new light sabers and shook his head. He knew the one thing he wanted was the one thing he would never have - because it wasn't something he could walk into a store and buy and wrap a bow around it. All he wanted was John....

 

John sighed and looked at his phone again. December second. When the hell did that happen? Christmas. He got up from his desk, turned out the light, nodded a good night to his receptionist and walked out of the surgery towards home. He had always loved Christmas, his mum always went all out, his da would get out his fiddle and play all the carols, there would be a tree, a real tree, and gingerbread biscuits with currants - there would be a huge pile of brightly wrapped packages on Christmas morning, bright red bows, silver paper - hot cocoa with marshmallows... he stopped short when he spotted Sherlock outside a toy store, looking more like a little boy longing for that special present, his nose pressed to the window - what do you buy for Sherlock Holmes? He wasn't sure that Sherlock would want him to know that he had seen him, so he hurried past hoping he hadn't been seen.

 

Sherlock opened his eyes and realised he must look ridiculous. He pulled away from the window and yanked his collar up as the winds had started up again, then turned on his heel and headed towards home.

 

Got a silly question, Mycroft. - JW

Mycroft rolled his eyes at the text, but it sounded harmless enough. All right - ask away, I'm all ears. - MH

Was there anything Sherlock ever wanted for Christmas when he was a kid, that he never got? - JW

Light saber. - MH

Light saber, as in Star Wars? - JW

He was about 6 when that second part came out, and he was already finding it difficult at school, I think he thought if he had a light saber... of course he didn't get one, frivolous, and the toy wouldn't be what he wanted, he wanted a real one. He stopped believing in just about everything after that Christmas. Why do you ask? - MH

No reason, thank you, Mycroft. - JW

John. - MH

 

"Let's get a tree."

Sherlock mumbled without looking up from his microscope, "a tree."

"Christmas tree." John turned away from the window and shook his head. "Just an idea. Never mind. I have an early shift. Night, Sherlock."

Sherlock watched John go up to his room, his shoulders slumped, in that way he knew all too well. He had done it again, hurt John without trying, as always. He jumped up from his stool and ran over to the desk as quietly as he could, then rummaged through the piles in search of pen and paper.

Christmas List:

1 tree  
ornaments  
fairy lights  
star (?)  
get Mrs. H to make gingerbread  
cocoa (?)

Sherlock nodded, and tucked the list away into his coat pocket, then for once went off to bed without being nagged to do so.

 

"Can I help you, sir? Shopping for a little one?"

John shook his head. "A friend. I'm interested in those light sabers in the window - do they light up and make that zzzzzzzzzwwwwwoooozzz sound?

"Oh yes, all the bells and whistles, I was assured - except they can't really do any damage, quite safe in that way."

"Good. Fine. I'll take two."

"Would you like them gift wrapped?"

"Please."

 

"A tree, I need a tree." Sherlock fell into the seat in front of Mycroft's desk obviously exhausted.

"A tree?" 

"Christmas tree."

Mycroft laid down his mobile and stared at his brother. "Since when -"

"John wants a tree. I want to get him a tree. I can't find a good tree, they are all - too tall, or too fluffy, or too skinny, nothing is -"

"Perfect?"

"Right. It has to be perfect."

"Sherlock." Mycroft looked closely at his brother and sighed, then nodded as he wrote down an address and slid it over to Sherlock. These are the people that supply trees for the Palaces - have done for generations, they will deliver and help put it up as well." He cleared his throat and was about to offer some brotherly advice, when Sherlock jumped up from his chair and bolted for the door, stopping briefly to offer a breathless, "thank you, Myc," and then he was gone.

 

John straggled up the steps after a ridiculous day of snotty nosed tots, whinging mums and - oh - he took a deep breath in and looked around him to make certain he was in the right place. Yep, these were his fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, sevent -

"You're home early." Sherlock stood at the door blocking his way.

"Feels late to me, I just want a hot shower and a cuppa -"

"Close your eyes."

"Sherlock..."

"John, please?"

John was so shocked to hear Sherlock utter 'please' that he didn't say another word, just closed his eyes and let Sherlock pull him inside the flat.

"Open."

John slowly opened one eye, then the other. "Sherlock? What. did. you. do?"

"It's too much. I knew it - sorry -"

"No. Stop. It's perfect. I just -" John looked at the beautifully decorated tree, brightly lit up in white fairy lights, red glass balls and tiny gold stars. The mantle had been cleared off and was now covered in candles, there was a scent of spices - "gingerbread?"

"One more thing. I wasn't sure, but I thought you might like marshmallows, I got whipped cream too, if that -" He went into the kitchen and returned carrying a steaming cup of cocoa covered in mini marshmallows. John took it and looked at it warily, but closed his eyes and took a sip.

"It's perfect." John watched as Sherlock's face seemed to glow all of a sudden and he whispered, "why?"

"Because I couldn't think of what to give you for Christmas, and then last night, you mentioned you wanted a tree..."

"I know, but -"

"Why?"

John nodded.

"Because... I -" Sherlock looked down at his feet and John finally understood.

"Stop. Wait. I - I wanted to save this for Christmas, but - here." He handed Sherlock the bag from the toy store and watched Sherlock's face change again as he opened one of the packages.

"John - how?" He held the light saber in his hand and turned it in amazement. "No one - you asked Mycroft -"

John nodded. "I wanted to get you something special this year -"

"Why?"

"Same reason."

"But - you - don't - you -"

"Shhhh." John put his mug down and reached up into Sherlock's curls, sighing quietly, "softer than I thought," before he pulled Sherlock into a kiss, barely brushing Sherlock's plush lips with his own. He stopped and mumbled, "I've always wanted to do that." 

"You have?" Sherlock's voice had lost its deep sharpness and his eyes had turned silver, perhaps it was just the light from the tree. John blinked at him and nodded. No, they were silver. 

"Always."

"You bought two light sabers..."

"Uhmhmm... can't let you have all the fun, can I?"

"John..."

"Yes, Sherlock?"

"I - I love you."

"I kinda got that. I love you too."

"There are biscuits..."

"With currants?"

"Of course..."

"Can we have them later?"

"I suppose they'll keep."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."


End file.
